


meet me in the middle

by boo98 (butter)



Category: BIGSTAR (Band), MYNAME (Band), SISTAR, The Unit: Idol Rebooting Project (TV), UNB (Band)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Gwangseok is a lot but Seyong is all about it, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 09:14:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14329266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butter/pseuds/boo98
Summary: Once Gwangseok gets an idea in his head he tends to want to see it through, all the way to completion.Seyong's definitely on board with that.





	meet me in the middle

**Author's Note:**

> Woops, I accidentally 'Seyong and Feeldog getting together with polyam!Feeldog and Bora and classic me chickening out of actually writing sex'. You're welcome to the maybe five other people who are as all about this idea as I am.
> 
> Fun fact - this was a 4.5k WIP just sitting in my drafts since early March before I finally gave in and just slapped it together today when I was supposed to be writing my Seventeen big bang fic. 
> 
> Follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/ponyoprince) for similar nonsense!

Kissing Seyong is a lot of things. It’s half-freestyle dance and half-competition, the dumb kind where it’s more about how many times you can make the other guy stiffen and moan into your mouth than anything about dominance or actually winning.

Kissing Seyong involves teeth sometimes but always has an edge of friendly affirmation, a nod across a crowded dressing room backstage at a music show or variety program.

More than anything else, kissing Seyong is fun.

Right now Gwangseok grins against his mouth toothily, because he can’t help it, and it may earn him a pinch at the soft skin on his side but it also gets him pushed a little more firmly against the wall of Seyong’s room in his dorm. He can deal with both things, no problem.

“What’s so funny,” Seyong says more than asks, pulling back just enough to shoot him an exasperated look. It would work better if his hair wasn’t a mess right now, unstyled and birds nest-rough from Gwangseok pushing his hands through it. He’s still cute, though. 

“Nothing,” Gwangseok replies cheekily, slipping into light Busan dialect the way he always does when they’re alone and off-camera. He reaches up to tousle Seyong’s hair again just because he can before dropping that hand to cup the back of his neck and tug. “C’mere.”

Seyong’s eyes narrow but he dips back in anyways to meet Gwangseok, mouth hot and wet like they didn’t even pause. His hands are at Gwangseok’s hips, grip loose but comfortable through the thick fabric of the sweatshirt he pulled on before he left his own apartment earlier.

He isn’t the tallest guy Gwangseok’s ever kissed. For a second he thinks fondly back to forever ago, to him hitching all the way up onto his toes and Chansung still having to bend over to let Gwangseok practically climb him in an empty KBS dressing room they had barricaded themselves into.

Seyong’s plenty tall still, though, and the upward stretch to sling his arms around his neck is satisfying.

Seyong responds by pressing in closer still, licking at Gwangseok’s mouth, and slipping his hands under his sweatshirt so they’re hot through the thin t-shirt he has on underneath. His thumbs push at Gwangseok’s hipbones, which jut out just over the hem of the loose-fitting joggers he threw on before running out to meet Seyong at the barbeque place they had lunch at before finding themselves back here.

Gwangseok’s stomach goes shivery as Seyong digs his thumbs in before swiping them inwards, following the line that dips down underneath his waistband. He doesn’t try to stop the half-moan that he lets out into Seyong’s mouth, because he knows how much it gets to the other guy’s head.

Sure enough, that’s all it takes for Seyong to groan back and grip his hips tighter, forcing Gwangseok’s head to tilt just that much further back and knock against the wall as he ducks closer to bite at the skin underneath his jaw.

It’s an almost eerie mirror of the first time they were in this position. It was fairly recent, only a few weeks before the first filming for the survival show. Gwangseok had texted all of the guys he knew that were going out for it and lovingly bullied most of them into coming over to the Bigstar dorm for drinking and complaining.

Gwangseok had spent most of the night slung over various dudes’ laps, texting Bora awful zoomed-in pictures of Raehwan and getting lazily tipsy. The dorm was loud but friendly and familiar, and it was nice to be able to just kind of sit back and watch his guys talk, postures more relaxed than they typically ever were these days, expressions more open.

He’d ended up against Seyong’s side on their couch sometime around one in the morning, and was using one hand to type out a response to Bora’s goodnight Kakao sticker (because she was a responsible woman who went to sleep at a decent hour sometimes) when he felt Seyong shift against him and prop his chin onto the top of Gwangseok’s head.

“How’s noona these days?” Seyong asked, voice low and casual. He was pretty obviously peeking at Gwangseok’s phone, but it wasn’t like he had it in him to mind.

“Good,” Gwangseok replied absently, finishing off his text with a quick round of hearts before swiping out of the messenger app and squirming until he could kick his legs over Seyong’s lap. “Drama filming, you know? Crazy stuff.”

Seyong hummed, and it was more vibration than sound with how the side of Gwangseok’s face was basically pressed to Seyong’s neck in this position. “That’s nice, though. Staying busy.”

“’Course she is,” Gwangseok scoffed. “She’s amazing and beautiful and successful.”

Seyong snorted a laugh the same way any of Gwangseok’s friends did whenever he switched on his almost automatic bragging boyfriend routine.

Still, there was something awkward enough about how Seyong’s hand came to rest on the couch cushion just shy of where Gwangseok’s calves were propped on the armrest that made him pause a little.

Despite the cheap beer and soju he still had enough clarity of mind to think for just a second before he continued on next. “She asks how you are sometimes too, y’know.”

He could feel the way Seyong tried to look down at his face before realizing that he was essentially pinned from the weight of Gwangseok’s cheek smushed against the base of his throat.

He swallowed – which was weird, with Gwangseok’s ear right there – before answering. “Oh? Um, that’s nice of her.”

Gwangseok took pity on him and shifted so he was leaning against the couch cushion instead of Seyong, although he didn’t move his legs. “She said that she was gonna have to think about who to vote for, if we both made it on the show.”

That was more teasing that anything – although she had actually listed off a string of names that she was looking forward to seeing, before shooting him a playful grin and saying that of course she’d include him in her lineup too, at least until the final round.

Seyong rolled his eyes and finally let his hand rest on Gwangseok’s ankle, right at the gap between where his jeans were cuffed and where his socks started. “Really.”

“Sure,” Gwangseok said, suddenly spurred by a rush of tipsy courage and the weight of Seyong’s hand on his skin. “Plus, she said she’d never forgive me if I didn’t come out of the whole thing with a couple new numbers for her.”

He could tell from the way that Seyong’s eyebrows knit together that he wasn’t sure, exactly, if he was understanding him right. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” Gwangseok let his eyes shut as if sleepy, rather than watching the way that confusion fought with realization on Seyong’s face as he continued. “It’s a good thing she and I have similar types, most of the time, or it’d be harder to chase down so many people’s phones. That’s not even mentioning the fact that I’m pretty sure they’re gonna ban us from even looking at the girls.”

Seyong’s hand was still resting on Gwangseok’s ankle, and it stayed even through the pause that hung in the air after Gwangseok finished. “Yeah, probably,” he finally added, and he sounded horribly awkward in that stiff way he got sometimes, but he didn’t move away.

That fact, more than anything else, made Gwangseok confident enough to give himself a mental pat on the back. “I figure I might be able to ask Yujeong to help me out and get some for me. Y’know, inter-company loyalty and all. Bora-noona likes cute girls, these days, I think since she’s getting old,” he added jokingly, and finally opened his eyes to peek at Seyong.

His eyebrows were still furrowed together above his eyes, which were round as always, and he was regarding Gwangseok like he was a particularly difficult choreography that he had to master.

It was a kind of focus that sent chills down his spine, a little, and he very carefully didn’t look away.

There was a brief moment of strange tension, where the low din of voices in the apartment dulled until it seemed almost silent, as if they were in a bubble right there on the worn-through couch that had been in their dorm since 2014 at least.

Then, Seyong cocked his head to the side a degree. “You don’t like cute girls, then?”

That was about all the go-ahead that Gwangseok needed, and it was like a knot of tension just disappeared in his gut. “I mean yeah, but I like the jeans and converse type more, y’know?”

“And cute girls can’t wear that?”

“You’re being annoying, hyung,” Gwangseok complained, settling in further against the back of the couch so he could look up at Seyong better. “Like, more natural girls. The casual sexy type. Bora’s weak for aegyo, these days, but that’s why she likes me so much, right?”

“You’re the least cute person I’ve ever known,” Seyong said entirely deadpan, but his mouth twitched up at the side.

Gwangseok couldn’t resist digging his elbow into his ribs as much as he could, even with the weird angle of his arm that was trapped against the back of the couch. “You suck. Anyways, it’s ok, some of the people that I like are different than her’s, too.”

He knew that Seyong caught the careful phrasing because his thumb, which until then had been absently swiping back and forth against his ankle bone, stilled. “Like how?”

Rather than think too much Gwangseok just barreled on – honestly, that was kind of his game plan in most conversations. “We both like funny guys, right? Like, sense of humor, and all that. She goes for the serious and silent type sometimes too, though, but that’s usually too boring for me.”

Seyong’s thumb twitched against his ankle and he raised an eyebrow at him, but his expression stayed mostly open and considering. “Tall, dark, and handsome? How’d she end up with you?”

Gwangseok whined, fake-offended. “I’m baring my soul to you right now and all I’m getting is mocking, seriously.”

“Sorry, sorry, you just kind of gave me an opening there,” Seyong laughed. “What do you do when she’s talking to the dark and silent types, then?”

“Usually I just let them go for it – those are kind of the straight guys too, y’know? Sometimes me and noona have some fun with them, though. Share them.” That was maybe a little more blatant than Gwangseok had intended to be, but it was worth it for the quick flash of heat in Seyong’s eyes at the suggestion. “She thought that might be what we could do with you, right, but I’m not so sure now.”

“Now?” Seyong hadn’t had that much to drink, apparently, because his gaze was clear and focused as a laser as he looked at Gwangseok. He could feel his ears reddening in response – and when had Seyong’s thumb started moving, again? “What about now?”

Gwangseok swallowed, and then barely managed to not grin when Seyong’s eyes dipped down for just a second to track the bob of his Adam’s apple. “I mean, you’re hardly serious. Or silent. You’re handsome, I guess, but the jury’s still out on the whole sharing you thing.”

He wondered, just for a second, what they looked like to the rest of the room as Seyong seemed to curve down just a millimeter closer towards him.

His guys would be unfazed, obviously – he and Raehwan had been something since before he’d even really known Bora, and the other two kids had long gotten used to the casual way that they all touched and spoke to each other.

The whole thing was a kind of unspoken, open secret among certain circles of his. He didn’t make a habit of getting close to the kind of people who would be weird about it in the first place, anyways. That wasn’t really his style.

“And,” Seyong started, voice low enough now that they might not be heard by the rest of the room, “when was I going to get a vote in the sharing me thing?” He would sound mad, from the wording alone, if Gwangseok didn’t know him well enough to be able to tell that he was having fun with all of this. It was in the way that his eyes went light and teasing, the way that even though his voice was low it rolled in an almost-purr.

Gwangseok was on the edge of vibrating in anticipation. “Weren’t sure if either of us were your type, necessarily,” he said, casual but careful because the whole thing just seemed liable to crack if handled improperly. “Besides, noona’s so busy these days that we haven’t had much time to meet, not to even mention trying to get someone else’s schedule to line up.”

Seyong tipped his head to the side so that it fell against the back of the couch facing Gwangseok. Their foreheads were close, like this, and it was kind of hard to focus in on his eyes. “We’re here now, though.”

Gwangseok hummed and toyed with his phone in his hands, but didn’t look away. “So that’s a yes? On the whole type thing?”

Seyong huffed fondly, breath dizzyingly warm against Gwangseok’s face, his lips. “I swear I’m usually way pickier with guys – you’ve worn me down, obviously.” His eyes flicked low again, like before, although this time Gwangseok could almost feel them looking at his mouth. “Is Bora-noona okay with you doing your own thing, sometimes?”

Gwangseok snorted very un-sexily, but it was okay – despite the newness of Seyong’s hand hot on his skin and the nearly physical weight of his stare, he had never felt like he had to worry about impressing the guy, really. “I swear she prefers it, half the time. There’s some stuff I like that we don’t really do, so. It works out.”

That seemed to get Seyong’s attention more than anything else they had said in the past – however long they had been talking, god. Gwangseok felt like he was somewhere outside of time, everything else slowed down around them.

Seyong’s hand on his ankle curled into a squeeze, just a little, and then he slipped his thumb further up the back of his calf and underneath the cuff of Gwangseok’s jeans. “Like, what kind of stuff?”

Gwangseok hummed, pleased and fond and thrilled in the pit of his stomach, and grinned wide and toothy at Seyong. “Wouldn’t you wanna find out?”

Even later that night, after most of the guys had left – although a few were passed out on the couch, and he was pretty sure Raehwan had snuck someone back to his room before Gwangseok could notice – Gwangseok found himself pinned neatly against the closed door to his room, kissing Seyong deeply and feeling the force of his excitement at this thing, this new, fun thing, pushing at the back of his throat and sparking up his spine.

They hadn’t done much that night – they’d both been anxious and overwhelmed, embarrassingly, with the newness of it all and the most that came of it was Seyong ruining Gwangseok’s jeans and refusing to apologize for it, mouth curled in a half smirk as he watched Gwangseok hop around looking for new boxers in the dark from his bed.

Then there’d been auditions, and filming, and long nights in florescent-lit practice rooms in the KBS building. They’d see each other, and then they wouldn’t, and then they’d both end up defending themselves on social media for whatever they’d apparently done this time.

The whole thing was thrilling and exhausting, but more than anything it was Gwangseok doing what he loved the most in front of what felt like the entire country – which was, obviously, insane in its own right.

Gwangseok met up with Bora at one point between filming weeks to see a movie that they’d been talking about trying to watch for weeks by then. Almost immediately upon sitting down in the theater she curled an arm around his and stole his phone to Snapchat Seyong.

“He seems cute,” she said later as they were leaving the theater and heading toward her parked car, both bundled up in puffy coats and wearing facemasks more for the cold than for avoiding media or fans. “Very earnest. Like, the determined type. Chasing his dreams, and all that.”

“Right? It’s annoying, sometimes.”

She laughed, breath fogging out in front of her in the winter air, and shot him a fond look. “You like him, though.”

Gwangseok had rolled his eyes and reached to take her hand when they made it to the parking garage, which was almost entirely empty considering it was close to three in the morning. “You already saw how stubborn he is. I can’t keep him away at this point.”

Bora giggled and pressed a kiss to his jaw before pulling away to unlock the car. “It’s sweet. He likes you too, then.”

She went through the motions to starting the car, and just before putting it into reverse to back out of the parking space she gave Gwangseok one more look, one he recognized from back when they first started talking about and sketching out the nuanced lines of their relationship. “Really, though. He’s good for you?”

Gwangseok settled back into the car seat and very carefully focused on not flushing. “Uh, yeah, I think. We – we haven’t really spent much time together, you know, since that first time.”

Bora made a low, understanding sound and finally backed out of the parking space and put them on their way back to her apartment. “He _will_ be good for you, then. You’ll find time.” She flicked her turn signal on at a stop light and shot him a mischievous look, eyes bright with the neon street lights around them. “ _He’ll_ find time, if nothing else. I’m sure he’s just dying to get you alone.”

“Noona,” Gwangseok whined through a grin as he peered out his window at the wet sidewalks and darkened storefronts of late night Seoul. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

He listened to Bora laugh again and she reached over to thread her fingers through his hand briefly before the light changed. “Just tell me when it happens, ok? I want all the details. I bet he’s great,” she mused, fingers squeezing his. “He’s a dancer, after all.”

“I’m a dancer too, you know.”

“Aren’t we all dancers? And anyways, you know you do just fine. Maybe take pictures for me if you think of it.”

“ _Noona._ ”

“They’d be so nice, though! I’m sure you two suit each other.”

Now, Gwangseok thinks absently of that conversation and makes a mental note to try to convince Seyong to take a selca or something later on. This isn’t the night for anything artsy, really – this is just him fully committed to just kind of taking all of the stubborn focus that makes up Seyong and turning it into something fucking awesome.

Not that it isn’t already awesome right now, because Seyong’s got one hand pressing into his jaw and the other just low enough on the small of his back that it feels like a question as he kisses him.

Gwangseok threads his fingers together at the back of Seyong’s neck and presses his hips forward, and they both hiss when they bump into each other.

He presses forward again, experimentally, tentatively, and that seems to be all the invitation Seyong was waiting for because he moves both hands back down to his hips, grip firm and sure, and Gwangseok can _feel_ him through his own sweats and it’s fucking _great._

Seyong’s an observant fucker, is the thing. He figures out quickly that Gwangseok can’t help but make soft, involuntary noises whenever Seyong pushes him close enough against the wall that he can’t quite move freely.

He uses this knowledge strategically, because he’s a smart asshole, to eventually coax both of Gwangseok’s hands above his head, where Seyong holds both wrists carefully but firmly with one hand while the other plays with the waistband of his pants.

“You’re perfect, holy shit,” Seyong breathes out, palm hot against the firm muscle of Gwangseok’s lower stomach. He smooths his hand lower, using the momentum to push his waistband out of the way enough that he can dip below his hipbones and make Gwangseok let out an embarrassing, high whine. “Why are you wearing clothes still?”

“Y’ haven’t really given me a chance to do anything about that, dick,” Gwangseok says with absolutely no heat behind the insult, because Seyong is _so close_ and Gwangseok’s lips are buzzing from not being kissed. “If you’re so mad about it why don’t you fix it?”

It’s an incredibly elementary school move but it works on Seyong, because of course it does, and he presses their mouths together in a searing kiss before letting go of Gwangseok’s wrists to yank his sweatshirt and t-shirt over his head at the same time.

Gwangseok laughs, startled, and watches Seyong throw the bundle of fabric to the side like it personally offended him. “Geez, dude, what’s the rush?”

Seyong actually gets a little pouty, which is hilarious. “You told me to do something.”

“Yeah, I just didn’t expect you to be that quick about it.”

“I follow directions,” Seyong says, shrugging and taking the new opportunity to skim his fingers lightly against Gwangseok’s bare sides. The light, barely-there touch makes him shiver, and Seyong notices this with bright eyes. “You’re sensitive.”

“It’s been a little while, so sue me,” Gwangseok argues back, pitch going just a touch high when Seyong passes one hand to his lower back where it plays with his waistband again. He’s starting to suspect that the guy has a bit of a fixation, and he’s really, _really_ ok with it. “’Specially with a guy.”

Seyong’s gaze, if possible, goes even brighter and more curious at that. “How long? Since you were with a guy,” he clarifies, moving closer so he can slot a thigh in between Gwangseok’s. They’re both in athletic pants, and the fabrics slip smoothly over each other.

Gwangseok has to take a moment to do math, and it’s made more difficult by the sudden pressure of Seyong’s thigh and the way he’s looking at him like a puzzle he wants to solve. “Couple of months, probably? At least since summer.”

“And it’s February now,” Seyong says under his breath. “Okay.”

He goes to push at Gwangseok’s waistband again but Gwangseok grabs his wrists before he can really do anything. “I’m really loving all this alpha male wall sex shit,” he says in response to the startled, round-eyed look that Seyong gives him, “but can we just move to the perfectly good bed that’s right there?”

Seyong blinks at him and looks around as if he forgot where they were. “Oh, right, um. Yeah, sure.”

He doesn’t move at first, so Gwangseok decides to just take the bull by the horns. He rocks up on the balls of his feet, kisses Seyong thoroughly on the mouth, and pushes him backwards in the same motion.

Seyong goes easily, and it’s a shitty, tiny city apartment bedroom so they only have to move a few steps before Gwangseok can get the back of Seyong’s knees right at the edge of his mattress. He pulls away long enough to pull Seyong’s shirt over his head, toss it to the side, and then presses Seyong forward onto the bed.

Seyong makes a kind of strangled moan when Gwangseok crawls into his lap to sit at the tops of his thighs. “Um,” he stutters, all the confidence and focus from just seconds ago suddenly shaken just, apparently, from the fact that Gwangseok has him flat on his mattress under his weight. “Hi.”

And really, Gwangseok needs to be a little nicer to the guy. They haven’t really talked in much detail at all about Seyong’s previous relationships, and aside from the quick mention of Seyong being picky those weeks ago he doesn’t even know how much experience he has with men. It’s flattering, though, and a little thrilling to grin down at Seyong and bracket his head with his elbows digging down into the comforter.

“Hey,” Gwangseok replies, before quieting any chance of more conversation for that moment with his mouth.

Seyong presses up against him, hands moving immediately to clutch at the bare skin at his waist, and when he bends one leg up on the bed the sudden change in angle sends Gwangseok sliding down until he’s firmly pressed against the hard line of Seyong’s dick.

They both break apart to pant into each other’s mouths at the new positioning, and Seyong’s grip goes tight on Gwangseok’s hips.

“You said,” Seyong says, voice already sounding shot and hoarse as Gwangseok decides to take this brief break from kissing him to go on a single-minded quest to mark up the entire left side of his neck. “That one night, you said – _shit,_ stop that, we have filming in like two days – you said there were things you didn’t really do, usually. That you liked.”

Gwangseok hums, still mouthing the skin under the jut of Seyong’s jawbone, and when he scrapes his teeth gently at the spot he almost grins yet again at the way that Seyong goes a little boneless under him. “Mmhm.”

Seyong whines satisfyingly even as his hands move to grip Gwangseok’s upper thighs, broad palms spanning the tops of them. “I wanna, um. Help, with it.”

Gwangseok pulls just far enough back to peer down at Seyong. He looks fucked, already, neck going red and flushed and hair a mess against the light grey comforter that he has on his bed.

Gwangseok, playfully, grinds down against his cock just to take in the way that Seyong bares his teeth and almost keeps himself from thrusting up against his ass through the thin fabric of their pants that they still have on for some stupid reason.

“Alright.” He takes in the way that Seyong’s expression goes wide-eyed and laser-focused, suddenly, with a thrill. “You said you were good at following directions, right?”

“Yeah,” Seyong says, more of a breath than anything because Gwangseok chose that moment to roll his ass thoughtfully against his dick again.

“Cool, so.” He leans forward again, down onto his elbows on either side of Seyong’s face, and his hips twitch forward without thinking when Seyong’s hands move almost automatically around to cup the backs of his thighs. “I really, really want you to fuck me, hyung.”

He feels Seyong’s reaction to that more than anything else, because the guy’s hips buck up underneath him as if he can’t help himself. It’s super flattering and hilarious and Gwangseok can’t help but grin before smacking an obnoxious kiss on his cheek. “That sound good?”

“You’re going to kill me, oh my god.” Seyong smooths his hands back up the front of Gwangseok’s thighs until the tips of his fingers are resting so, so close to where his dick is hard and snugly trapped in his boxer briefs, under his pants. “Yeah, fuck, that sounds good.”

It’s only a few minutes of hurried edging towards desperate kissing until Gwangseok manages to ease Seyong’s hands to squeeze his ass through his pants, use the leverage to pull him down against his dick.

Gwangseok doesn’t hold back the whines at that point – Seyong’s guys are all out doing who knows what that night, hauling their manager with them. There’s no one to worry about.

Plus, every time he lets out a keening noise when Seyong gets his feet underneath him to thrust up against his ass, Seyong matches with a broken groan and another buck upwards.

“You have to take these off,” Seyong says finally, words muffled against Gwangseok’s mouth and hands slipping underneath Gwangseok’s joggers, underneath his briefs to finally actually cup his ass. “C’mon.”

Gwangseok almost misses the actual words because his hands feel huge and burning-hot against his skin, and _fuck_ this is going to be good. “Mm-hm, okay, sure.”

Seyong snorts against his mouth and just kind of goes for it in lieu of Gwangseok doing anything, tugging his pants and briefs down in one motion until Gwangseok does actually have to stand up to get them completely off.

He kicks them onto the floor, making sure to get them basically entirely across the room in that movement because he has every plan of making Seyong get them later on. And alright, they’re friends (or something, he might need to reconsider that label after this), but Gwangseok’s still totally fine with being a little bit of a dick to him.

When he turns back around Seyong is also stripping down to nothing, and it punches Gwangseok in the gut a little more than he honestly figured it would. He’s fit in that way that all dancer idols are, with long legs and a firm stomach.

More importantly to Gwangseok’s kind of whole deal right now, his dick is just as slender as the rest of him, and Gwangseok decides right there that he really wants to get his mouth on it.

“Change of plans,” he announces, stepping back over to the bed and reaching over to grab Seyong’s calves. “I wanna suck your dick first.”

Seyong practically squawks at that announcement, and then again at the way that Gwangseok just kind of yanks him forward to the edge of the bed so that when he settles down onto his knees on the floor of the bedroom he can post up in between Seyong’s legs, resting his cheek against one thigh while Seyong’s hands move to grip for balance onto the bedspread.

“I won’t, um, complain,” Seyong says, and his voice goes up at least half a measure when Gwangseok actually grips the base of his dick, just to kind of get a feel for things. “Just saying, though, if you do that I might not last to what else you want to do.”

“Oh?” Gwangseok feels probably a little stupidly proud at that, and shoots a grin up at Seyong. “Been a while for you too?”

“Um, that, and also the fact that I think your mouth might actually kill me.”

That just served to intensify that pride in the base of Gwangseok’s stomach, and he ignores the heat that rises in his cheeks at the notes of panicked admiration in Seyong’s voice. “We’ve got plenty of time, hyung. I bet I can get it to happen by the end of the night.”

It ends up being a moot point. Gwangseok only sucks him off for a few minutes before the almost quiet enough to miss click of a phone camera shutter goes off, and he just has to pull back to shoot a betrayed look up at Seyong.

“’Wasn’t my idea,” Seyong tries to defend himself, petting Gwangseok’s hair in what is probably supposed to be a calming motion if he wasn’t also grinning toothily at his phone screen and subtly pressing against the back of his head to get him back where he wanted him to be. “Noona asked.”

“Noona can take her own pictures if she wants them that bad,” Gwangseok complains, and lets go of Seyong’s thighs to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand, lips buzzing and definitely red. “Scooch back.”

Seyong tosses his phone back to the side and is still grinning a little too wide for Gwangseok’s tastes as he obeys, moving further back on the mattress so that Gwangseok can haul himself back on the bed and settle on his thighs again.

“Y’know, noona also said that she’d be disappointed if I could walk tomorrow.”

Seyong actually rolls his eyes before using the fact that Gwangseok wasn’t actually that interested in fighting him as an opportunity to maneuver him around until he could get one hand around both of their dicks, the touch threatening to bring up another whine from the back of Gwangseok’s throat. “I thought you said you weren’t about all that alpha male sex stuff?”

“I mean,” Gwangseok hedges, languidly rolling his hips in turn with the way that Seyong flicks his wrist. “It’s not all that bad. We just might have to work our way up to wall sex, is the thing.”

“As if we’d ever even get there. You’re all muscle, you’re probably heavy as shit.”

“Don’t insult my girlish figure, you dick.”

Fucking Seyong ends up being pretty similar to kissing him, Gwangseok finds out about ten minutes later, as Seyong clutches his hips hard enough to press white spots around where his fingers dig in. It’s all rocking movement and punched-out sounds that Seyong always somehow manages to find ways to make happen, rolling out of the back of Gwangseok’s throat like a prayer.

It’s dance, and competition, and enough care in the way that Seyong first stretches him out with warm teasing and constant checking glances up at Gwangseok’s face. Gwangseok’s thighs are strong enough to hold him up through the whole thing, and Seyong keeps making breathy comments about them that just give Gwangseok more ideas for later.

And, later, Seyong eventually bitches enough about Gwangseok just being sweaty dead weight on top of him to ruin all semblance of afterglow. It’s fine, though, probably more than fine, because that just means that they’re still them.

“Hey,” Gwangseok says even later, after he’s stolen Seyong’s shower stuff and a pair of his basketball shorts and is collapsed face-down on his mattress watching Seyong hop around trying to pull his own sweatpants on. “Since when do you and Bora even talk that much?”

Seyong pauses and shoots him a half-amused, half-guilty look as he finally manages to pull the pants on. He ruffles a hand through his half-wet hair and shrugs, shoulders bony but broad enough that Gwangseok’s already kind of itching to get his hands on them, his thighs slung over them. “She wanted to compare notes.”

Gwangseok groans and burrows his face further into Seyong’s pillows. “She’s nosy as fuck. I barely ever get into her business when she takes her girls out on dates.”

“Don’t be so mean,” Seyong says, voice teasing, and he sits down heavily next to Gwangseok. “She gave me some good tips.”

That gets Gwangseok’s attention, and he rolls his head to the side just enough to squint suspiciously up at Seyong. “What kinds of tips?”

Seyong just laughs, pats the back of his bare shoulder, and leans over him to flick the bedside lamp off. “Maybe later. She’ll want to watch some of that stuff, I'm sure.”

Gwangseok grumbles the entire time that Seyong manhandles him into cuddling, although it’s mostly for show and he responds quickly when Seyong kisses him probably too-thoroughly for a goodnight kiss. “I’m starting to think the two of you might actually need to never meet. Ever.”


End file.
